


Tying Up Loose Ends

by foldedchip



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Beta-read, Canon Universe, Finn is a Good Boy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hair Braiding, M/M, One Shot, Sweet, Tiffinny, Trans Tiffany Oiler, because why not?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22865692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldedchip/pseuds/foldedchip
Relationships: Finn the Human/Tiffany Oiler
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Tying Up Loose Ends

Finn stumbled out of the crumbling temple, cautiously balancing several weapons and pieces of armor against his lithe figure. He dropped them all with a clatter and inhaled the humid jungle air. Pulling his hat off, he ran a hand through his braided hair, which was damp with sweat.

“Great job, Tiffany!” He said, “How did you like that dungeon?”

The other boy was grinning, preoccupied with several gold coins.

Hat twirling around a finger, Finn smiled, “Guess I’ll take that as ‘I had a great time’. Would you say that _ treasure-hunting _ is better than  _ stealing _ ?”

Tiffany stuffed the loot into his pockets and wiped the smile off of his face. “I suppose, but it’s not like you made it all sugar and honey. I only went in there because you said that there was plunder.”

Finn nodded, “And what did I tell ya? That place was full of loot! Just look at these fellas!” He waved a pair of studded barrettes, “Why would someone even waste aquamarine on hairpins? They must have been crazy rich, that’s why!”

With a sound effect for drama, Finn clipped a barrette into his hair after gathering up a few loose strands of the gold.

Tiffany noticed Finn’s woven hairstyle, and subconsciously touched his own frizzy mess of hair. “What’s that?”

Tucking his hair back into his hat, Finn turned to look at him, “What’s what?”

“The- the hair. What you did to your hair.”

Finn pulled his hat back off and gestured to his hair, “Oh, you mean the braid? I can show you.”

He swung his bag around his shoulder and scavenged it for everything that he needed: a bottle, a hair tie, a comb, and a nice brush.

He popped off the cap of the bottle of leave-in conditioner to soften Tiffany’s hair. It was so dry and broken that Finn wouldn’t be able to style it without help.

Tiffany settled down in the moist dirt. Lush green blanketed the Jungle Kingdom, and sky-scraping trees rooted themselves within it.

A thick root poking out of the ground made for a great seat, so Finn positioned himself on top of one and leaned over Tiffany.

“I’m gonna put some conditioner in your hair. Is that okay? It won’t hurt or anything, it’ll just help me out with brushing it. It might also make it look kinda shiny.”

Tiffany gave a subtle nod, and Finn gently worked the product into his hair. He then reached back into his bag and pulled out a detangling brush with very flexible and rounded bristles. The good kind.

He started at the bottom of Tiffany’s hair and worked his way up. Tiffany was surprised that the boy that was viciously destroying monsters a few minutes ago was brushing his matted hair with such delicacy. He’d stopped bothering to brush his hair a while ago. Ripping a comb through it was always too painful for him to bear. Finn, on the other hand, did everything with the utmost care so that it wouldn’t hurt him. It was no wonder why his blond hair was so beautiful and healthy.

“Okay. So, once you’re done with brushing it, you have to divide it all into three equal parts.” He slid the tip of the comb against his head twice to make tidy sections.

Finn handled Tiffany’s hair with the gentleness that one would reserve for holding a butterfly. “You take one of the outer sections and fold it over between the middle section and the other outer section. That way, it’s the new middle section. And then you do it again, and you just keep doing it until there’s no more hair to braid.”

As he worked, Finn said, “My mom taught me how to braid my hair, which is weird, because she just had fur. I don’t know how  _ she _ learned to do it, but she kept a lot of secrets, I guess.”

Beneath him, Tiffany simply nodded.

“... What’s  _ your _ mom like?”

Tiffany stiffened and leaned his elbows onto his knees.

“She’s been gone for a long time.”

Finn’s fingers stroked Tiffany’s hair before he managed to think, and he prayed to Glob that Tiffany hadn’t noticed that absent-minded show of affection.

“Her name was Poetry. Guess it was pretty fitting because she  _ was _ a poet. She was really awesome.”

Finn’s released a breath that he hadn’t realized that he’d been holding, and continued without raising any suspicion. “She sounds so great. My mom’s gone, too. She died when I was 7.”

Tiffany ran his fingertips over the hilt of a dagger that he’d found in the dungeon.

“Mine died when I was 5.”

Ohhh. Finn knew what that was like. A sinking feeling pulled him farther to the ground, but he caught sight of the braid in his hands and the feeling began to slip away.

“Um, the braid is really nice,” he started, the chipper tone of his voice returning in increments, “But I think that we should add something extra!”

Restless hands playing with the blade, Tiffany buried his head farther down, “What would that be?”

Finn’s callused fingertips tapped each other as he thought. 

“Oh! I’ve got it…”

He leaned over and grabbed a handful of the wildflowers growing in a soft patch around him and Tiffany. Picking out the bits of grass that were mixed it, he tucked a few red and blue flowers into the pretty bundle of yellow.

“Tada! Whatcha think?”

“I can’t even see it.”

“Oh, sorry.” Finn handed Tiffany the mirror, and he inspected his hair with surprise.

“Wow, not bad. For a loser.”

Finn giggled and gave Tiffany a peck on the cheek.

Shocked and offended, Tiffany reeled back and gave Finn a cold glare.

He gasped, “Sorry! I’m sorry, I should have asked-”

Growling, Tiffany yanked Finn over by the hat and smacked a quick kiss on his cheek. “There. Now we’re even, weenie,” he grumbled.


End file.
